Rose Wilson tossed her cigarette into the harbor under the dock. The creaky wood made her feel unsteady as she stood above the cold water watching the waves rush in to meet the shore in the pale moonlight. She was having a crisis. He brain rushed her at all angles telling her all of the things she should do to help or hinder her father's advances.

She was not unlike another blonde girl whose family pushed her into the wake of evil, but instead chose to fight for good. But unlike her, Rose had no friends to help her choose her path. She had no moral guidance.

She had always been a loner, pushing the boundaries on her own. She never felt like she fit in with other people, not only because of her family or because of her father's insanity, but because she was different inside. She never fought strictly for the angels or for the demons, she was lost in the between realm.

She wasn't stupid, she had known about the team for many years. She had kept herself hidden behind her father's shadow but forlornly hoped that one day she would be accepted into such a crime-fighting club. It had seemed so prestigious when she was a child.

Now that her father had taken a head on advance in fighting the team, she had stepped out of the shadows. Over the past few months, her life had drastically changed. She had befriended the resurrected Jason Todd and left her father's guidance (not before he made her carve out her own eye though).

Jason was a loose cannon, but he was a familiar soul, a kindred spirit. He was not good or bad, not hell bent on destroying the League or the team (apparently they didn't know he was alive). He killed people and so did she; they fit together perfectly.

But now that her father had taken it upon his shoulders to break apart the team that she had admired from afar, she decided to take a stand. They would need all the help they could get against the infamous Deathstroke. Plus, she had a bit of anger that she needed to get out for the whole eye thing.

She walked back down the dock and quickly jumped under when she saw a couple approaching. She crouched under and let the icy water lap at her ankles before they passed overhead, voices carrying over the harsh wind like the civilians they were. They had no cares in the world.

She walked from under the pier and along the shoreline for a few miles, chain smoking to keep her nerves down. She knew that she would be expected by Nightwing. He knew she was alive and well aware of the fact that she was killing people (who deserved it) in San Francisco with a mysterious friend.

She kept tabs on her father and when he randomly relocated to the other side of the country and the JL was off-world, she knew she'd better follow. She left Jason in San Fran to go after a new drug ring he dug up and she headed off to Gotham.

Her eyes spotted the warehouse on the docks ahead and she took a long drag. Her shaking right hand pulled the cigarette from her cold lips and she readjusted her mask before exhaling the smoke from her lungs and letting it curl into the cold night air. She walked up to the warehouse hoping to exert confidence.

Before she had a chance to knock, the door slid open and Nightwing's figure stepped into view. She took another drag as he eyed her curiously, she averted her eyes as she blew it out over the bay.

For all of Jason's bitching, she was expecting him to look a bit more prissy. She tossed the stub under her foot and ground it into the concrete. His lips tightened into a firm line.

"Nightwing." She said, inching her eyes over him. Not as impressive as she was expecting.

"Ravager." He said curtly before opening the door inside the warehouse again. "Come on."

She followed him inside the dark loft and heard the noises of life from ahead. He led her away and into a small room to the left. In the room were a few boxes on a long countertop and a table with three chairs. The table was scattered with files and pictures of people she recognized.

"This is temporary." He said, she didn't know if he was referring to the hideout or her helping the team, "I don't trust you."

Ah, he meant her helping the team, "I'm not here to get you guys out of whatever jam you're in. I just want to be on the side against Deathstroke."

"Understandable." He cleared away the files on the table and stacked them on the counter behind them. "Deathstroke was hired by the Light and the Reach."

"I figured that much out Bird-boy." His lips tightened and she smiled, sitting down. "Oh calm down."

"I don't want you killing anyone." He said, sitting across from her folding his arms in front of his chest. She pulled another cigarette from the pack strapped from her hip with her lighter and bounced it in the table, packing it lightly. He watched her intently.

"Where is the fun in that?" She muttered, putting the cigarette to her lips and lighting it without an effort. He narrowed his eyes and tensed even more when she sat back and took a drag. "I won't kill him."

"What are you going to do?" he asked, watching her expel the smoke from her lungs and she smiled.

"Oh I don't know, more of the Wilson family run around? I'll buy you more time." The cigarette dangled dangerously from the side of her mouth and she took a small drag before pulling it away and leaning forward again. "Not much though, maybe a few hours or so."

He coughed at the smoke and she laughed. He scowled, "Are you going to get hurt?" She laughed again.

"Such a boy-scout." She muttered smiling and eyeing him again from under her cowl. "I'll be fine."

"Thank you Rose." He said suddenly as she brought the cigarette up again. It hung in her mouth, surprised then glowed as she inhaled again. "It's nice to have you on the team, just for this once."

She remembered how alone she felt as a child, how isolated. She never had affection or love, or even charity. She grew up fast and learned how to look out for herself. She had envied the team, they had each other. She had no one.

"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want me on your team." Her smile fell. "If I had run into your little Daddy I'd probably be in Blackgate."

He paused and tried to read her, but couldn't, "No, he'd try to help you. I am too, in a way."

"Really." She almost asked it but in a way it was a statement. As if, really, like you'd help.

"Really." He leaned forward and smiled and she exhaled to the side. On impulse, she felt a need to tell him everything, to justify why she killed crooks with Jason. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't a criminal, she was just girl. She was scared and she had been alone her whole life.

But she didn't. She nodded curtly and took another drag hiding the pain like her father always taught her to do.


Author's Note:
So I originally just wanted this idea to be a one-shot but now I have a few ideas if you want me to keep going with this. It really depends on how many people review and follow it. So please let me have your input!